Close Encounter
by Miastic
Summary: From a close encounter, two young men strike up an alliance ... ONE-SHOT. Warnings: Mild violence, AU/AR, boys kissing, coarse language ... Same Universe as 'Summer Madness' and 'Disorientation' but can stand alone


**Title: **Close Encounter  
**Prompt:** #04 - Calligraphy  
**Author:** Miastic  
**Word Count:** 4,476  
**Chapter: **1/1  
**Rating:** R  
**Warnings:** Swearing, homoerotic, AU/AR, mild violence, boyxboy and most probably OOC-ness  
**Pairings/Characters:** HichiIchi, Grimmjow, Chad, brief mention of Uryuu  
**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of the characters implicated in this fic, I am merely a pawn of a severely fucked up imagination and I would appreciate it if I'm not prosecuted for my guilty pleasures.  
**A/N: **CC welcome. Talk about getting carried away, huh? I actually had to force myself to stop before it got beyond ridiculous. Despite the fact I really want to make this a multi-chapter, heh. It probably makes no sense on it's own either - so much was swimming through my head when writing this, it was almost over-loading and I had to cut some of it out, heh. Feedback much loved ...

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If there was something Shiro couldn't do, it was read or write. He didn't give a shit personally but it did grate his nerves wildly whenever his partner of two years decided to gloat on the matter. Which happened to be quite a lot.

"What th' fuck does it matter anyway since I don't need t' fuckin' write," Shiro had said aggressively once as Ichigo, his partner, made another snide remark on his illiteracy. "All I need t' fuckin' be able t' do is shoot and stay th' fuck alive. No paperwork. End of fuckin' story."

Ichigo had raised his eyebrows perpetually at this response and Shiro had then stormed out of the kitchen in a huff.

No matter what, Shiro would never admit that it was troublesome not being able to read or write, the former even more so. After everything he's said to Ichigo about it in the past, he felt it would terminally injure his pride if he contradicted himself and give Ichigo even more fuel to take the utter piss out of him. He had never dwelled on the fact he hadn't bothered to learn how to read and write until he met Ichigo and, soon after, changed profession which demanded the former. If an assassin could even be considered as a profession.

It was pride melting having to ask Ichigo to show him where the houses/flats he was sent to 'visit' in advance or even risk asking him to be the designated driver for some of the jobs, which could consequentially jeopardize his missions and his partner's life. The latter, he did not like at all and thus decided to fuck his pride and ask Ichigo to teach him. It'd be worth all the hassle to keep the sexy bastard out of the unnecessary danger he was putting him through. Shiro's mind rolled in the irony of that. Ichigo was still in danger, in or out of the missions, as he stays permanently with Shiro, even through the constant moving and maybe even migrating if Shiro hits it big in his line of business and is sent overseas.

Ichigo met Shiro, having just started University at 18 years of age, during a rather wild student party. Shiro, a year older than Ichigo, was there purely for 'business purposes' and had consumed excessive amounts of alcohol when he thought he'd ran into a mirror. Except, he swore he wasn't frowning all aggressively like that and certainly didn't have such flamboyantly bright orange hair when he left his hotel room. But he was also out of his face.

It took him a few seconds to process that it was another person who was standing infront of him, not a mirror, and it was then he racked his brains for signs of taking any suspicious substances throughout the night but he couldn't remember fuck all in that department. A hand snaked its way up to rub the nape of his neck in confusion.

"Jeez, wha' th' fuck'd I take th' night?" He questioned aloud. It dawned on him that in the few seconds he'd been trying to fathom this out, the frowning look-a-like infront of him had been doing the exact same thing, judging by his puzzled expression underlying the frown and the dubious glance he shot his beer.

"Jus' thinkin' tha' myself," he somewhat slurred slowly in reply. "Mus' be some freaky shit goin' on here."

Shiro trailed his eyes over the fellow party goer with interest. The guy didn't look all that like him on second thoughts. He looked lean but Shiro was a lot more noticeably muscular; his eyes were a soft brown whereas Shiro's were a strange, sharp colour of gold; most prominently, as he'd first noted, his hair was a bright orange and Shiro's was pure white. The guy also had more of a tan than Shiro, whose skin was currently deathly pale. He looked slightly younger and had a juvenile innocence sparkling in his eyes that Shiro had long lost.

"What's yer name?"

The orange haired guy tilted his head to the side, frown lessening ever so slightly. "Ichigo. You?"

"Shiro," he replied just as shortly, before regarding his new acquaintance slowly once more. "Very handsome, eh?"

The wink accompanying the teasing words had a sly grin spreading slowly across Ichigo's face. "Was gonna say th' same 'bout you."

"Shiro!"

Shiro cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder and caught sight of a flash of blue and gave Ichigo a wide grin. "Speak t' ya later, Ichigo, my services are required elsewhere."

"Sure," said Ichigo, grinning back as he gestured for him to leave with his hand. Shiro turned on his heel and threw Ichigo a wink over his shoulder. Ichigo stood rooted to the spot for a couple of moments, shivers spiralling down his spine, before he resumed what he was doing before.

"What is it, Grimmjow?" Shiro growled, his friendly manner dropped in the matter of seconds. "I was jus' 'bout t' chat this nice lookin' guy up, over there."

Grimmjow suddenly grinned wolfishly, a certain glint in his eye as he regarded his friend. "Who? Ichigo? You'll have no luck there, that boy's a bit of a stiff."

"You know me, Grimmjow, I'll figure something out," said Shiro, not deterred in the slightest by this information. "I thrive for a challenge."

Grimmjow rolled his eyes but his expression hardened suddenly. "Our target, two o'clock."

Shiro's mind cleared at this information and he casually turned in the direction, quickly switching to game mode. "Woah, this guy mus' eat his spinach every morning."

"Spinach or not, he still can't dodge bullets." Grimmjow snorted as Shiro's eyes widened to saucers as he eyeballed his friend.

"Ya gotta _gun_ fer this one?" He asked in shock, a new-found excitement creeping up on him steadily. "Since when did _you_ get upgraded?"

"Ya can quit givin' me tha' jealous glare, Shiro, ya've got one, too," said Grimmjow with a roll of his eyes. He inclined his head to the house next to them. "I'll fill ya in with the details inside."

Shiro followed Grimmjow inside, scanning the swarm of guests as he went and locking onto a chocolate brown gaze. He let a slow smirk cross his face as he ran his tongue across his bottom lip seductively, eye contact dashed at last minute as he stepped over the threshold of the house. But not before he saw the shimmer of desire slowly building up in Ichigo's eyes. He grinned. Tonight was going to be a good night.

"We've got silencers so we can do the hit without the rest of the party finding out," said Grimmjow, head tilting to the side playfully as he added, "Well, not at first anyway."

"9mm?" acknowledged Shiro as a gun was handed to him in the confines of a random bedroom they'd found. He flipped the weapon over in his hands as he examined it. "Nice, so is there any particular reason we're topping this fucker?"

Grimmjow let loose another manic grin to his companion. "You know we don't get details, Shiro."

"Don't give me tha' shit, Grimm," said Shiro impatiently as he rounded on the other man. "What did ya find out?"

"Well, enough to know Ichigo'll never talk to you again, he's apparently good friends with the guy," said Grimmjow, with a sly smirk as Shiro scowled.

"Great, we'll just have to be extra careful," said Shiro, disgruntled. "No-one's supposed to find out anyways, or we've fucked up."

"Aye, but you're forgetting this is just our gangs, Shiro," said Grimmjow, lazily. "They fuckin' expect you to slip up 'cause it means they get more credit."

"True," said Shiro, jutting out his bottom lip. "Fuck's sake."

Grimmjow slung an arm around Shiro's shoulder, tucking his own gun back under his belt and covering it from sight with his shirt, Shiro mimicking him as he sauntered out of the door.

"Ya better make th' most of it while ya can, Shiro," said Grimmjow, mockingly. Shiro gave him a growl in return and headed off in the direction of the booze. Once there, his mood lifted instantly as he caught sight of a bright orange mop of hair bowed in front of the open fridge.

He sneaked up behind Ichigo and wrapped his arms loosely around his waist as he whispered in his ear. "Get me a beer, Ichigo."

The 18 year old in question jumped at the sudden contact and nearly let out a highly undignified yelp. "S-sure, here."

Taking the beer, he brought it up to his lips, watching with half lidded eyes as Ichigo turned to look at him, shutting the fridge. He used his back teeth to get the bottle cap off, depositing it in his hand as he licked the froth that formed just inside the neck of the bottle. He saw Ichigo's voice box shift and restrained a sneaky smirk.

"So ... who're ya here with, Shiro?" said Ichigo, in a desperate attempt to take Shiro's mind off playing with the bottle.

"My friend got invited an' he brought me along so I dunno anyone here," said Shiro distractedly as he spotted their target enter the kitchen. His eyes flicked back to Ichigo. "You?"

"Oh, uhm, my friend's throwing the party," said Ichigo, turning as he noticed the newcomer to the kitchen. "Hey, Chad!"

"Ichigo," said Chad with a slight nod. Shiro marvelled at how deep and rich his voice sounded, with a slight accent indicating he was foreign.

"This is Shiro," said Ichigo, for want of something to say as the kitchen grew deathly quiet. "Shiro, this is Chad."

Again, Chad nodded, but towards Shiro this time, and even though Shiro couldn't see the guy's eyes, he could feel the uneasiness spread from him. Shiro gave him a mad grin, inwardly wandering if he knew. But how could he possibly know? "What age are you?"

"18."

"Seriously?" said Shiro, his eyebrows swallowed by his fringe. "God, you gotta be at leas' 20 odds."

"Yeah, he gets that a lot," said Ichigo, grinning at his tall, bulky friend as he nudged him playfully in the side. "'Specially when people find out he's in one of th' gangs tha' are runnin' around here."

Shiro's eyebrows raised, if possible, even more and he suddenly remembered Grimmjow'd distracted him when he was trying to get background information of the guy now standing infront of him. He inwardly cursed Grimmjow.

"Is that so?" said Shiro, with a slight edge to his voice. "Which one?"

"What are you doing here?" said Chad, apparently deaf to the question Shiro just asked. Shiro furrowed his eyebrows.

"Partyin', what's it look like?" he answered cheekily, almost glowering as he spotted Ichigo eyeing them both weirdly. His chances tonight sure were looking slim. "What gang are you with?"

"The same one," said Chad, his voice slow and without emotion.

Shiro looked perplexed by this. "Did I hear tha' righ'?"

Chad nodded. "I know you, though no-one is supposed to know you're part of it."

Shiro's heart nearly stuttered to a halt as he realised what Chad was saying and he masked his expression with a placid one. "Yer talkin' shit, Chad. I'm part of no gang."

"I've always known the 'behind the scenes' of our gang, Shiro," said Chad, evenly. "It is pointless denying it."

Shiro's unpredictable temper flared and he strained to keep himself under control. Something wasn't right about any of this. Just as his hand dived to where his gun was hidden, he heard a harsh click echo in his ear and the coolness of smooth metal pressed into his temple.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a cold voice spoke into his ear.

Another click resounded in the now pregnant silence that descended fast on the room and Shiro brought his attention to Chad standing with a gun pointed directly between his eyes. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

"Grimmjow, you bastard!" Shiro growled through clenched teeth. He was livid and not to mention fucking scared shitless. "Fuck!"

A thunk clattered around the room as Ichigo's bottle fell to the ground and rolled past Shiro's feet, feeding it's contents to the cheap linoleum. "What're you doing, Chad?!"

"Orders," said Chad, shortly. "Shiro is to be permanently disposed of."

"Disposed of?!" Shiro scoffed, back arching as Grimmjow pinned his arms uncomfortably against his back. He let out a strained pant, his breathing quickening as fear shot through him. He was completely defenceless, even though he had a weapon on him. He could almost taste the irony.

"Yes," hissed Grimmjow, digging the nose of the gun further into Shiro's pale temple for good measure and yanking his arms further up his back, encouraging a pained gasp to interrupt his laboured breathing. "And you're done tonight."

"I take it I'm definitely not goin' t' get laid tonigh', then," said Shiro, sarcastically, followed by another hiss off pain as Grimmjow tugged his arms once more. "Well, ain't tha' jus' great."

A pained shout jolted everyone in the room. "Chad!"

Everyone's attention turned to Ichigo, whose face was contorted in utter disbelief. Shiro stared at the door, half wishing someone would walk through. Grimmjow and Chad had already fucked up by not killing him instantly. An assassin doesn't play with his prey.

"What the fuck, Chad?!" he continued to shout as if in pain, startling the tall, bulky man in question. "Put it down!"

"What?"

"I said put it down, Chad!"

"Ichigo ... "

"NOW!"

"Ichigo, calm down - "

"PUT THE FUCKING GUN DOWN, CHAD!" screamed Ichigo, alerting people outside.

"Ichigo - "

"Chad!" Ichigo screamed again. Shiro swore there were tears in his eyes. He had completely forgotten he was held at gunpoint for a few seconds before he took advantage of Grimmjow's momentary lapse in concentration too and spun out of his grip, quickly tugging the gun out from under his belt and flicking safety off. Aiming it directly at Grimmjow's heart, he was sickened to see the other's wolfish grin glinting at him.

"It's not loaded," said Grimmjow, smugly. Shiro felt all the blood drain from his face.

"What?" he choked out, glancing down at his weapon. He flicked the barrel open and spun it angrily as he saw no bullets. "_Fuck."_

Grimmjow's twisted chuckled raised his head again and he faced one of the guns pointing at him with disgust.

Fist clenched at either side of him, Ichigo snarled dangerously. "Put the fuckin' guns down! There's no fuckin' need for this at all!"

"Sorry," said Grimmjow in a tone that told Ichigo he wasn't the least bit apologetic. "But no can do."

Shiro heard a shuddering gasp of air from behind him where Ichigo was standing and he felt his heart tug slightly. That innocence he'd seen earlier in Ichigo's soft brown eyes would be gone in the morning. Once you've witnessed death first hand, it's hard to go back from there. Hell, Shiro surmised that you couldn't after trying himself.

"Well, now I know why ya distracted me earlier," said Shiro smoothly, coolness leaking from his posterior. "The target was me."

"You weren't really s'posed t' find out," said Grimmjow. "Hence the guns and the silencers. But I thought I owed you more than that. It would be a terrible insult to shoot you from behind. Can't hide the fact that I'd love to, though."

Shiro sneered as he watched Grimmjow's fingers tighten precariously around the trigger, his heart beat reaching double-time. He was finding it hard to mask his fear now with the prospect of his death imminent.

"I'll be huntin' ya down in another life then, Grimmjow Jaggerjack," said Shiro in a dangerous voice. "I'll be huntin' ya down an' repeatin' wha' happened with our last couple o' jobs."

Grimmjow snorted. "Hate t' break it to ya but there's no life after death, fucker."

"You'd be surprised," said Shiro, perverse amusement at the whole situation he'd gotten himself into spreading his lips wide. He wondered what'd happened to Ichigo's protests but didn't dare take his eyes off Grimmjow to find out. All he could hear now was silence screaming back at him. It twisted his already shot nerves. The suspense was death alone to Shiro.

"Chad, we've drawn too much attention to ourselves, we better make a break for it before they all come storming in here," said Grimmjow and Shiro saw him glare over his shoulder to Ichigo behind him. So he's still there, Shiro mused to himself. "We'll find him later."

"Knew ya didn't have th' guts, Grimmjow," spat Shiro, open disgust spilling from his tone. "Ya'll never find me."

"Watch your back, Shiro, we'll be comin' sooner than you think."

With that, Grimmjow and Chad were out the front door and off to God only knows where. Shiro slumped against the counter, quickly shoving his bullet-less gun into his jeans and concealing it once again with his shirt. He felt sick to the stomach with rage. And relief. Oh God, he was still alive. The kitchen door banged open and in ran a tall, slim guy with long black hair at the front.

"What's happening, Ichigo? I'm sure I heard you yelling?"

There was silence for a few moments where Shiro first noticed that the music had been turned down but he couldn't give a shit. _He was still alive._ That's all that mattered.

"Ehr – yeah, just got into a ... a bit of a ... "

"Argument," Shiro finished for Ichigo, his voice sounding a lot more composed than his. "Pathetic stuff, really. Sorry if we got a bit loud."

The guy just smiled quickly and eyed them both strangely.

"... what?" said Shiro, uneasily. He wasn't sure if anyone had caught onto what it was exactly that Ichigo had said.

"Are you's related?" He pushed up his glasses with a small smirk. "Ichigo, you didn't tell me you had a brother."

"I don't!" said Ichigo, sounding annoyed. Shiro looked over to where he was leaning all his weight against the sink by the window. He looked seriously shaken up and his usual healthy pallor had turned extremely pale. Shaken up didn't suffice. "He's just a friend."

"Oh ... you's look awfully alike," the guy said, shrugging it off soon after as he turned on his heel and walked out of the door. "Family or not, keep the arguments to a minimum."

The music was soon cranked up again and it pounded on deaf ears as Shiro and Ichigo wearily looked at each other.

"Are you okay, Ichigo?"

Ichigo nodded slowly, unsure of what he truly felt at the moment. "Just, just numb."

"Heh, yer tellin' me," said Shiro playfully, his voice had an almost unidentifiable tremor to it. Ichigo gazed at Shiro sharply.

"Are you?"

"Yeah, fuckin' great," said Shiro, dazed. "I'm still fuckin' alive, 'course I'm great."

Ichigo gave him a confused look. "B-but your friend jus' - "

"It's happened before," said Shiro, dismissively. He waved a hand as he pushed himself back up, noting his legs seemed to be less like jelly now. "I wasn't all that shocked." He lowered his voice to a nasty murmur. "Though I was rattled 'cause I was caught off guard."

Shiro moved in front of Ichigo and offered him a hand, his playful smirk back in action.

"I think ya need anotha drink," said Shiro with a cheeky wink. "Ya dropped yours."

"Well, that was somethin' else," said Ichigo, recovering slightly and trying to hide that he was close to tears from Shiro. "The tension. Ch', you could pierce it with a knife."

"Y'know," said Shiro, looking extremely uncomfortable. "I'm sorry ya had t' see tha'."

Ichigo looked at him, concern in his bright eyes. "'S'okay, Shiro, wasn't your fault."

"I know but ... " Shiro sighed. "It's not exactly somethin' anyone should hafta witness."

"I said it was fine, Shiro," said Ichigo, sternly this time as he turned away from him, feeling the distantly familiar prickling of tears around the edges of his eyes. "I jus' ... can't believe Chad was gonna ... righ' in front of me an' everythin'."

Without another word, Shiro pulled Ichigo into a tight embrace, feeling his heart clench. He knew how Ichigo felt, he'd been through it all before and he wanted Ichigo to know he could guide him through it. He felt a hand grasp his shirt from behind tightly as Ichigo sniffed against his shoulder. It tore him apart when he knew he wouldn't see the boy ever again after tonight. For all he knew, Grimmjow could be waiting at his apartment at this very moment, biding his time until Shiro finally showed up. Shiro knew he had to get out of the town at least, and fast.

"I'm really sorry, Ichigo, I'd love to stay and party with ya, but I hafta go," said Shiro, almost painfully as he gradually pulled away from the tight embrace to look into Ichigo's glistening brown eyes with the deepest empathy. "I hafta get outta here."

"I'll come with you," said Ichigo, his voice small and strained as he gazed hopefully at Shiro, who shook his head in disdain.

"Ya can't, Ichigo, ya got yer friends and family all here," said Shiro, reasonably. He smoothed his thumbs over Ichigo's shoulders. "I'm talkin' 'bout leavin' town. I hafta get outta this entire area 'cause I know better than anyone tha' ya can't hide from Grimmjow."

"Take me with you then."

Shiro's eyebrows scrunched together. "Haven't ya gotta life here? University by the looks of ya. Ya can't jus' drop it all an' leave."

"Just watch me," said Ichigo, determination winning over his saddened expression. "I hate it here, always have. I wanna get out just as much as you, if for different reasons. C'mon, Shiro. At least I'd be company."

"It's dangerous," said Shiro, fruitlessly trying to get the guy to change his mind. As he looked into his eyes, he sighed in resignation. "Okay, but we're leavin', _now_. And there's no going back. You have to leave everything behind."

Ichigo grinned broadly and gave Shiro a brief, tight squeeze before grabbing a bag and tossing in some beer from the fridge. As he stood up, he raised his eyebrows at Shiro, who was gazing on in amusement. He was sure after saying that he wouldn't have had second thoughts at least but no hesitation at all. "Let's go."

They had come an awful long way since that fateful day, around two years ago.

Back to the present where Shiro was currently warring with himself in the bedroom whether or not he should go to find Ichigo. He stopped outside the living room door when he heard a cough behind it and decided he'd take the plunge.

"Better sooner than later," he muttered as he opened the door and found Ichigo hunched at the desk over by the far wall, currently scribbling away. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly and advanced on the hunched over form. "Hey, Ichi?"

"Yeah?" said Ichigo airily.

"Uh," said Shiro, not sure how to word this in a way that wouldn't incriminate himself. "I was wondering if ... "

Ichigo had craned his neck around to look at Shiro with a frown at his partner's peculiar behaviour. "Wondering if what?"

"Uhm." Shit, why was this so hard to say? And the fuckin' stalling is just making it even harder, thought Shiro, desperately. "I was wondering if you could maybe teach me how to read and write."

Shiro didn't look at Ichigo at all and just waited with baited breath for vocal notification of his reaction.

A surprised noise left Ichigo's throat before he replied. "Uh, sure."

Shiro's eyes snapped down to stare at Ichigo in shock. "Sure?"

"Yeah," said Ichigo with a small smile. Shiro was still in shock at this mild reaction. He'd expected a lot of laughter and him being the butt of a thousand more illiterate jokes. "I'm glad ya asked."

"Really?" said Shiro suspiciously, beadily eyeing Ichigo as he rose from his chair and closed the distance between them. Their lips touched briefly before Ichigo pulled back with a pleased hum. Shiro just stood there thoroughly stupefied by this, having expected the complete opposite.

Ichigo chuckled and wrapped his arms around his waist loosely, slipping his fingertips fractionally beneath Shiro's dark blue jeans. He smiled warmly as arms sneaked around his waist in turn and closed his eyes as their lips met again, softly.

"I was sure ya were gonna take the piss outta me fer askin'," said Shiro as their lips parted again.

"And why would I do that?" said Ichigo teasingly, fingertips sneaking further down and gently rubbing across the soft skin.

Shiro shot him a mock-glare as he gave a gritty response. "'Cause ya always do."

"True," said Ichigo, a grin flashing across his face before he leaned forward and caught the older man's lips in his again, caressing them with his own tenderly. Shiro gladly reciprocated this and let a shallow moan creep up his throat.

"Ya know, I'll hafta drag ya into th' bedroom in a minute if ya don't stop yer hands from wanderin'," he said warningly, giving Ichigo a lustful look.

Ichigo merely smiled lazily back and pulled his hands back up, running them under Shiro's shirt this time. He raised his eyebrows mischievously. "And why would I do that?"

Shiro just rolled his eyes and brought their lips together with a little more vigour than before, massaging them together as he also allowed his hands to wander freely across Ichigo's tanned skin.

"What were ya writin'?" asked Shiro as he pulled away, leaving a trail of wet kisses across Ichigo's jaw.

"Just ... practicin' some calligraphy," said Ichigo, breathlessly, as Shiro's lips acquainted themselves with his neck and started to suck and nip and lick tentatively. He ran a hand down Shiro's back to firmly grip his waist. "Wanna see?"

Not interested in the slightest but thinking it would be nice to humour Ichigo, Shiro nodded his head against Ichigo's collar bone which he'd lowered down to. He was pleased to hear (and feel) Ichigo's quickened breaths.

Tugging his head up as he was pulled towards the desk, Shiro let go of Ichigo to look down at the fancy letters written delicately across the paper.

"Tha' looks dead fancy," said Shiro in approval, running his fingers along the edges of the paper as he stared down at it. "Did ya really write tha'?"

"Yeah," said Ichigo, half defensively, half proudly. "'Course I did."

"D'ya think ya could teach me?" Shiro asked with hopeful eyes.

Ichigo chuckled quietly. "I need t' teach ya the basics first before ya dive into all the fancy shit."

"Damn," grumbled Shiro as he folded his arms and turned his attention away from the paper and back on the flushed face of Ichigo. He grinned wickedly. "Fuck tha', anyway."

He grabbed Ichigo and pulled him in for a bruisingly passionate kiss. Plenty of time to learn later.


End file.
